I'm Gonna Be Here Til I'm Nothing
by randomfan276
Summary: Stiles' college friends are great, but they sometimes say the strangest things. Or, the one in which Scott visits Stiles at college, everyone assumes they're a couple, and the boys are completely oblivious.


**I'm Gonna Be Here 'Til I'm Nothing**

"Dude!" Stiles laughed, as Scott threw his arms around him and drew him into a tight hug. "Not that I haven't missed you too, buddy, but breathing is an essential part of life, and I'd really like to keep living, so…" Scott responding by squeezing even tighter, if possible, and Stiles could have sworn he felt him sniffing his hair with his usual level of subtlety before he was finally released from the enthusiastic hug.

Scott's face was lit with a broad smile, and Stiles couldn't help but smile back. College suited him well, he realised. Scott's thin T-shirt showed off his broad shoulders, and his skin was definitely a few shades darker than the last time Stiles had seen him in person. "Been working out?" he teased, squeezing Scott's bicep jokingly. Scott smacked his hand away lightly.

"More than you," Scott replied, grinning.

Stiles rolled his eyes and grabbed Scott's bag, leading the way back to his dorm room. Jason was apparently on his way out of the building, and had been watching their reunion with an odd expression on his face, eyebrows raised in surprise. He caught Stiles' eye and altered his path, heading out to meet them.

"Hey, I'm Jason," he introduced, extending a friendly hand toward Scott. "Stiles' roommate. I'm guessing you're the best friend?"

"Scott, that's right," Scott gripped his hand firmly. "Good to meet you, finally."

"Back at you. I've gotta run, sorry – the boss will have my ass if I'm late for work again – but I'll see you tonight. My brother's working at the local club and he can get all of us in, no worries, so be ready for a big night out." Jason leaned in to Stiles as he departed, winking at him and speaking in a low voice. "Well done!"

"Well done?" Scott echoed, raising an eyebrow at Jason's retreating back, before turning to his friend. "What was that about?"

Stiles shrugged, already moving on. "Who knows, he's weird. Come on in, let me give you the tour!"

* * *

"I accidentally stood on part of his sandcastle, so he peed on mine in what he swore was justice, not revenge. My dad's in law enforcement as well, so I couldn't really argue with it. Long story short, we ended up merging our castles together to make a fortress, and we've been best friends ever since." Laughter broke out around the table, and Scott took another mouthful of his drink, relaxing back into his seat.

"That's so cute!" Rachel exclaimed, nudging Stiles with her shoulder as he returned from the bar, glasses precariously balanced in his hands. "You need to invite your friends around more often. You never tell us the good stories!" Her eyes were shining with an alcohol-fuelled glee, and Scott noted with amusement that his first impression of her as a shy introvert was definitely being overturned.

"God, Scott, what are you telling them?" Stiles' cheeks were flushed pink, and he miraculously managed to land the drinks on the table with only a minor spill. He threw himself down on his seat before narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Scott.

Scott raised his hands in surrender. "Don't worry, I'll take what happened on your eighth birthday to the grave. My lips are sealed." Scott laughed as Stiles' mouth dropped open with surprise, and immediately there were calls for details. He turned back to the rest of the table with a grin. "Sorry, we made a pinky promise at the time. You won't hear it from me." He threw a wink at Stiles, surprising himself with how relaxed he felt. He couldn't help it; Stiles' friends were easy-going and friendly, making him feel right at home.

On cue, Rachel leaned forward with a smirk. "Fine, have your secrets. But tell me – when did you guys first figure it out?"

"Figure what out?" Scott responded, perplexed.

Jason rolled his eyes and reached for Rachel's hand. "Never mind," he interjected, pulling her gently from her seat. "C'mon Rach, there's enough lines crossed for now. Come dance some of that vodka away."

Scott watched the two of them leave in confusion, before turning to Stiles, who had moved a little close to him. "There were lines crossed?"

"Hmm?" Stiles responded, distracted. "Not really, Rach just rambles a little when she's tipsy. She's normally really quiet, so she always gets embarrassed the next day if she talks too much. Jason's just cutting her off before she gets to that point, that's all."

There was something off about that, Scott was sure, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He was distracted by Stiles turning his head toward him, light brown eyes only a few inches away. "I'm glad you're here," he heard Stiles say quietly.

"Me too," Scott replied, feeling a rush of warmth unfurl in his chest. Stiles smiled, turning back to watch his friends dance, unconsciously pressing himself against Scott's side. Scott pressed back, allowing the warmth of his friend's body to seep into him, and pretended not to notice the sly smile on Jason's face when he glanced over to their table.

* * *

"It's the ultimate story of good versus evil! The underdog defeating the powerful villain! It's a feat of inspiration!"

"You're a feat of inspiration," Scott muttered under his breath, more amused than annoyed. He'd forgotten just how hyperactive Stiles could be when drunk, and he really hoped he was leading them in the right direction, because there was no way Stiles was paying attention. As if in response to his thoughts, Stiles spun suddenly on his heel, face set with a determination to fight for his cause, only to stumble as his balance failed him.

Scott rolled his eyes and pulled his friend toward him, wrapping an arm around Stiles' shoulders as he started walking again. "You're such a good friend," Stiles rambled, "even if you still refuse to watch Star Wars."

"Uh huh," Scott replied. "I'd be a better friend if I could remember the way back to your room."

Stiles made a noise that sounded vaguely like a protest. "Nah, you're the best. My building's just ahead, anyway."

Stiles was right, Scott realised with relief. Getting him up the stairs to his dorm was a mission in itself, but before too long they were stumbling through Stiles' door, and Stiles' threw himself face-first onto his bed with a somewhat inappropriate groan of pleasure.

Scott left him to it, moving to clear some of the junk off of Stiles' couch. He was interrupted by Stiles throwing a pillow at his back. It missed him by a good three feet, but was enough that he turned around to see his friend staring at him through drooping eyelids.

"Forget it, Scott," Stiles said sleepily. "It's too much effort to set it all up, and the couch is lumpy as hell anyway."

"It's got to be better than the floor, Stiles," Scott replied.

Stiles shuffled sideways, creating a space in bed next to him. "Plenty of space here, buddy. Come on, I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to."

Scott huffed a little, amused, before abandoning the couch and sinking down next to Stiles. He was right, the bed was definitely much more comfortable. "Thanks, man," he said, before finally allowing himself to drift off.

* * *

A bang followed by a "Shit, sorry, dude" had Stiles jumping out of bed the next morning before immediately regretting it. The sunlight stabbed into his eyes and he squeezed them shut tightly, cursing under his breath.

He heard the mattress creak behind him as Scott climbed out of bed with significantly more grace. Damn werewolf reflexes. He cautiously opened his eyes to see Jason standing in the doorway holding three cups of coffee, and his disgruntled feelings toward his roommate immediately evaporated, replaced by gratitude.

"Thanks, Jason," Stiles yawned, grabbing the offered cup. Jason had that same strange expression on his face that he'd had all weekend, and had opened his mouth as if to say something before slamming it shut. Stiles frowned at him. "What? What's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing," Jason protested hastily, handing Scott his drink and manoeuvring around the small space to his desk.

Stiles followed him, folding his arms and cocking an eyebrow. "Spit it out. Is something wrong?"

Jason looked up in surprise. "No, of course not." He glanced sideways at Scott before turning back to Stiles. "I guess I'm just a little surprised. But you guys are great together, really."

"Uh, thanks?" Stiles responded, confused. Maybe it was his hangover, but the conversation didn't seem to be making sense.

Jason seemed to realise the same thing, as he continued. "I tried to do the long-distance thing once, and it didn't end so well. It's just nice to see that it is possible after all."

Yep, definitely the hangover. "Well, Skype makes a big difference," Stiles said awkwardly, before declaring an urgent need for greasy takeout breakfast food and quickly changing his clothes. Jason declined to go with them, saying that they should have some time alone and, anyway, he had assignments due, so Stiles dragged Scott out of the room the minute his shirt was over his head. Bacon. Everything would make more sense after bacon.

* * *

Nothing made sense after bacon. They had run into Rachel on their way out for lunch, and she had blushed and apologised for being so inappropriate the night before. Scott couldn't for the life of him figure out why she was apologising. He said as much, and she looked at him in surprise.

"Maybe it just sounded worse in my head, but I felt like I was being a bit rude, prying into your relationship like that," she explained. "It's really none of my business."

"No, it's fine," Scott reassured her. "It's not like it's a secret."

She tilted her head, curious. "Well, it's not like Stiles advertises it," she explained. Scott felt an unexpected pang of hurt at her words. He had told his friends plenty of stories about Stiles, hadn't Stiles done the same? Apparently not. "Although I guess wearing each other's clothes in an advertisement of sorts," Rachel continued, smiling as she nodded toward Scott's shirt.

Scott glanced down in surprise. In their haste to leave that morning, he had grabbed the closest item of clothing nearby. He hadn't even noticed that it wasn't his until Rachel pointed it out, although now that she mentioned it the cloth was a little tighter than normal. He glanced over at Stiles to see that he was staring at Rachel with a frown. Scott was confused; they'd shared clothes on occasion in the past and it had never been an issue before. Had something changed?

Rachel excused herself with a mention of heading out for a lunch of her own, and Scott tried his best to put the conversation out of his mind. Try as he might, he couldn't get her words out of his head, and his good mood evaporated. He had thought that his and Stiles' friendship could survive college, but maybe he had misjudged them. Stiles had friends here who clearly cared about him, he fit in well and seemed to really enjoy himself, and apparently rarely even mentioned Scott to his new friends. Suddenly, Scott felt out of place in Stiles' new world. It occurred to him that maybe he was holding onto something that Stiles had outgrown. The pang in his chest deepened, and he swallowed past a lump in his throat.

* * *

His friends were all insane. That was the only conclusion Stiles could come to. Scott had been acting weird ever since their lunch on that Sunday, and had looked on the verge of tears when he had said goodbye before heading back to California. His texts had been short and unemotional since, he wasn't answering his phone, and it seemed to be impossible for Stiles to catch him on Skype.

Jason had been withdrawn as well. Apparently Scott's visit had pushed him down memory lane and now he had decided to try and rekindle his relationship with his ex-long-distance-boyfriend, which was going about as well as Stiles had expected. The result was Jason becoming increasingly more grim as the semester wore on, conversations dwindling to a series of grunts.

Rachel had been away from college for a few weeks with a family emergency, so Stiles was surprised when he returned to his dorm room to find her lounging on his bed with her nose buried in her textbook. Jason had his laptop open on his bed, tapping away on the keyboard with a glum expression on his face.

Stiles dropped his bag on the floor by way of greeting, and nudged Rachel over to sit beside her on the bed. "Everyone okay at home?" he asked gently, and was rewarded with a smile.

"Yeah, all okay," she replied. "Mum was in an accident and was laid up for a couple of weeks, but she's back on her feet and has ordered me to get my ass back to school, so here I am." Rachel closed her textbook with a snap, rolling on her side to face Stiles properly. "On to more important things, how's it all going with Scott?"

Stiles felt his mood collapse on itself. "Not great, honestly," he replied. He felt Jason look up from across the room in surprise. Neither of them had been the best conversationalists of late, so despite living in the same room they weren't exactly up to date on each other's lives. "He's been really distant since he visited here. I've barely been able to get him to talk to me."

"Wait a minute – you guys had come out before, right?" Jason asked, concerned.

Stiles stared at him in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"

There was an awkward silence as Jason and Rachel looked at each other, then back at Stiles. Good, at least they were as confused as he was. "I thought he might be freaking out a little if it was his first time coming out as gay," Jason responded slowly, "but apparently that's not it at all."

"Wait," Stiles said in bewilderment, finally catching on. "You think we're a couple?"

Rachel stared at him. "You're not?"

"No!" Stiles exclaimed. "We're friends – really good friends – but I can assure I have absolutely no desire to do anything even vaguely in the vicinity of sex with him. Nothing even in the same universe as sex! Not that there's anything wrong with him, but just – no. What the hell made you think I did?"

"Well, you did look awfully cosy in bed together that morning..."

"…And you shared each other's clothes..."

"Plus, you were basically sitting on his lap in the club..."

"…And Scott was gushing over all these embarrassing childhood stories of you."

"Anyway, I saw you guys when he arrived," Jason concluded. "I swear to god he was smelling your hair, Stiles. Hate to break it to you, but straight guys don't do that."

Stiles flushed, wishing he had a better response than ' _But werewolves do'_ before spluttering a little and finally consoling himself with the confirmation that yes, his friends were definitely insane. A few strange details from that weekend were finally falling into place, though. He had been so confused when Rachel commented on him and Scott sharing clothes, and Jason's comparison of their friendship to his old relationship, at least it was finally starting to make sense.

Maybe, he realised with a rush, this had something to do with why Scott was being so weird. "Did you guys say anything to Scott while he was here?" he asked, urgently. "Or anything to each other while he was nearby?"

Rachel and Jason exchanged glances. "Not to him," Rachel replied, and Jason nodded agreement, "but we may have discussed it in the next room. I don't think he would have heard, though."

Stiles pulled his phone out, anxiety and relief warring through him as he sent Scott an urgent text demanding to talk to him. Enough was enough, he wanted his friend back.

* * *

Scott had been trying to study for a good four hours now. He said trying, because in reality he was still on the same page as when he had first opened his textbook. He glanced at his phone to see an unopened message from Stiles, and his heart clenched. He had been trying his best to distance himself from Stiles, but it had been so hard. They'd never gone so long without each other before, and he hadn't realised how much he relied on Stiles to just be there, to listen to him and give advice and distract him with inane topics when required.

His phone bleeped, and a second text from Stiles illuminated the screen. Scott grunted, turned the phone so the screen was against the desk, and turned back to his book.

Another bleep, and Scott closed his eyes, frustrated.

Three bleeps in quick succession and Scott grabbed his phone, slammed his finger onto Stiles' name, and brought the phone to his ear with a growl. "What?"

"Okay dude, whatever you overheard Jason and Rachel saying, just ignore it. They're awesome, but they both have overactive imaginations and Rachel's really secretly obsessed with sex, seriously, she sees it in everything, and Jason's just an old-school romantic, so you really have to take whatever they say about people's feelings with a grain of salt." Scott blinked, vaguely impressed that Stiles made it through all of that without needing to draw breath. "So anyway, I don't know what you heard but I don't love you. I mean I love you, you're my brother, but I still don't want to get all up in that. No offense, but the idea of us having is sex is a little gross and borderline incestuous, so I get why you're a little weirded out, but you really should have talked to me first, Scott. Scott?"

Scott's mouth opened and closed for a second, taken aback. "What the hell are you on about, Stiles?"

"Jason and Rachel," Stiles replied, rather unhelpfully.

"I got that," Scott said. "What about them? And what does this have to do with incest?"

There was a pause from the other end, and when Stiles spoke again he sounded hesitant. "I thought you must have overheard them talking," he said cautiously. "For some reason they think we're a couple. As in, together."

Scott paused, letting it sink in. When it finally clicked, he started laughing so hard that, werewolf or not, his vision started blurring a little.

"Well, okay, I'm glad the idea of dating me is so hilarious," Stiles' voice came down the line, sounding somewhat offended.

Scott swallowed his laughter, calming himself enough to reply. It was difficult, as the elation was burning through his limbs, and he felt as though a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. That conversation with Rachel had been seared into his mind, replaying itself constantly over the last few weeks, and now playing it under a different light he could see it for what it was. All that self-imposed loneliness, because someone had misinterpreted a relationship that went far beyond romance. "No, it's just – I guess I just misunderstood some things myself, that weekend," Scott explained. "That's why I've been keeping my distance…but I guess it doesn't matter now." He pressed the phone more firmly to his ear. "I'm just glad to have you."

"You'll always have me, Scotty. Like I said before, life fulfilled, right?"

Scott smile broadly. "Definitely."

* * *

Title from "Always Gold" by Radical Face.

Because at times like these, we all need a little Sciles bromance :)


End file.
